Sticks and Stones
by beverlymaldoran
Summary: The Doctor has a surprise planned for River, but things go seriously awry when River reacts more strongly than he was anticipating.
1. Chapter 1

AN: Many thanks to grumpyjenn and Snowy Ashes for beta-ing, advice, and general invaluable assistance! Enjoy :)

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><p>The locals at the market shifted quickly out of River's way as she stormed through the TARDIS doors and took off through the market at a furious pace. She had nowhere to go in particular, but right now she just needed to get away from him and blow off some steam. She dove in between carts and stalls, ducked under archways, and glared at those who got in her way, but still the energy of her anger was undimmed. Spotting a rug-seller who was about to charge an old woman too much for a rug which had moth holes too small for the elder woman's eyes to see, River jumped into action, giving him several pieces of her mind and cowing him into selling the rug for slightly less than it was worth. It felt good, though she noticed that the old woman, while appreciative, was also backing away from her. She scowled.<p>

Diving back into the crowd she unabashedly elbowed her way past several people, grunting as she bumped up against them. The fourth one, a burly man with thick eyebrows, took the bait, turning on her and shouting at her for her rudeness. She shouted back, and he closed the gap between them, pulling up to his full height with the clear intention of intimidating her. Laughing boldly, she grabbed an arm and used her weight to twist him to the ground, pinning his face to the dirt with her knee on his back. He grunted in surprise as his cheek hit the sandy ground and the crowd around her gasped. Pressing her knee sharply into him for emphasis, she heard him moan in pain. At the sound, the energy of her fury drained out of her, and she was left feeling vaguely sick about her actions. Getting up hastily, she took off at a run through the crowd yet again, finally coming to a stop in a small alleyway between two of the few permanent structures in the enormous open marketplace.

Leaning her back against the wall, she cradled her head in her hands as she shook it back and forth. She really shouldn't have let herself get out of hand like that. She could have killed that man – and wouldn't that just have proved his point. Damn him!

No - mustn't rile herself up again. She dropped her arms to her sides again and tilted her head back against the wall.

The truth was, it wasn't just what he'd said that had made her this angry – though why he'd decided to choose today to bring up her taste for violence and his disdain for archaeology, two topics that had never gone over well with her in conversation - but no, no River, mustn't dwell on that again - it was the whole situation – _their_ whole situation. Oh yes, it was just like she always said, she wouldn't change it for a minute, she wouldn't even exchange it for a "normal" synchronized relationship, it was as much a part of who she was as the curly hair she'd sported ever since regenerating into River Song. But that didn't mean it didn't occasionally piss her off.

See, the problem was, when they got into a fairly significant argument, she couldn't just leave him. She couldn't make him sleep on the couch, because the TARDIS was his – well, as much as she was anyone's. He had a room that he had used before they were together in his timeline, but whenever River stayed on the TARDIS for an extended period, they always stayed in their shared bedroom, the room the Doctor and the TARDIS had made for the two of them after the wedding. There wasn't any space on the TARDIS that was just hers and hers alone, not shared. She had her cell of course, and strange though it was, it's concrete walls were comfortingly hers, but even if she went to her cell, it wasn't private – there were always guards – and he could sonic the damn lock whenever he wished.

Even worse, if she used her vortex manipulator to leave, or even got the TARDIS to take her to her cell, there was no guarantee that when she saw him again it would be after the argument. In fact, it was nearly guaranteed that she would see either some version of him from before the argument, or some version who had already met up with an earlier (or later) version of her and been unpleasant but tolerable and who was therefore now over it. Heck, he could be further enough along to have essentially forgotten about it entirely. And then where would that leave her? Having to take it out on a Doctor who either hadn't said yet or wouldn't remember what he'd said to upset her? Having to swallow it? Having to accept an apology given simply because he of course loved her and would of course apologize for whatever it was he had done to hurt her? No, she'd been there and done all of that the first few times they'd argued, and none of it was even vaguely satisfying. Eventually she'd realized that the best thing to do was just stay in the same place as him until they could work it out. However, this resulted in her feeling trapped. Limited. Caged. Stuck. And that was made all the more terrible by the fact that when she was with him was when she normally felt the most free, when she could leave behind all thoughts of her cage, all the broken memories of being raised in that suit. So it was that the terror River felt at feeling trapped in the one situation she counted on feeling the opposite was often enough to produce a rage several times the justifiable anger she felt at the Doctor when they fought.

Well, no matter how much she disliked it, past experience had taught her that this was the least of several evils. Sighing, she moved away from the wall to walk back towards the TARDIS. Perhaps she had blown off enough steam to try talking to him again.

It's just that this whole situation was so inexplicably aggravating! The argument hadn't even made any sense – it had come literally out of nowhere. Their occasional fights tended to be more along the lines of who-knew-better about some historical event (they were both just a _bit_ stubborn, and the TARDIS seemed to dislike them fighting, so she would never bring them to the relevant moment in history to see which one of them was right), or, most often, an argument over which one of them should get to risk their neck to get them out of a given situation. The Doctor always seemed extra adamant about those, and would actually get very angry, so she mostly let him win. (Little did she know that this was an argument he'd been having with her over and over again in his head since that first time, knowing he couldn't make it right, but hoping to just confirm for himself over and over again that if he'd known, he would somehow have managed not to let her do it, not to let her take his place.)

Instead of being one of those types of fights, this had just been him picking on and disparaging the things that meant the most to her.

Everything had been going just as it always did. In fact, it had been going even better than usual – he'd picked her up from her cell, and instead of immediately rushing off to some undoubtedly more-dangerous-than-he'd-realized planet, he'd taken her to a giant shoe store and let her wander around while he fixed some things on the TARDIS. She'd offered to help, but he had been adamant about her finding some shoes to replace those fabulous black pumps she'd lost to the swamp on Elva IX last week (well, last week for him apparently, nearly a year ago for her), so she'd left him to his work and spent hours wandering through a shoe store in utter bliss. They were like guns, but with less risk of danger, and sometimes that just hit the spot. After that they'd had dinner together on the planet which housed the shoe store and spent a lovely evening together on the TARDIS. He'd seemed extraordinarily pleased with himself. She assumed it was because his shoe store plan had been such a hit with her, but one never knew what he was up to.

And then this morning, he'd pulled such a behavioral transformation that she was at first concerned that she had somehow been dropped off by yesterday's Doctor and picked up by some earlier or later one on some sort of insane mood swing. The mark she'd left on his neck last night had confirmed that it was the same him, though, which made it all the more confusing. She'd woken up to find him out of bed already, so she'd spent a bit showering and getting dressed, and then headed out to the console room. As she expected, he was already there, piloting them (badly) to the famous open marketplace on 23rd century Choreolus – they'd realized last night that they were running out of the amazing tea that they had picked up there the last time. As she'd wandered out, about to say good morning to him, he'd glanced down at the plasma blaster she was strapping into its holster. After a brief pause, he'd looked her in the eyes and said - _before they had even said good morning_ – "Really, River, you think you'd be able to go one day without violence. You and your guns – sometimes I think they mean more to you than I do." Hitting some sort of cruel stride, he'd continued, "You're just pathetic, you know that? Can't even go into a marketplace on a peaceful planet without a blaster on your hip. There are other solutions you know – but no, I guess I shouldn't be surprised that so much of your head is filled with archaeological drivel that you can never see them."

As he'd said it, River had stared at him blankly. It was so unbelievable and so out of _nowhere_. She'd been furious, of course, but she hadn't even felt she needed to defend herself – his statements were so completely ridiculous – and as he'd reached the end of his diatribe, stepping up to place his hand on the offending blaster, the TARDIS (bless her) had landed, and River had simply slapped his hand sharply off of her hip and strode off, her eyes aflame with anger and indignation as she pushed into the surging crowd.

Now as she headed wearily back to the TARDIS, her anger largely spent, she was worried about what could possibly come of this confrontation, and was forced to really consider what he'd said. Sure, he'd always joked about her guns, and she knew he found archaeology to be less than appealing, but this had been vicious, and if this was truly how he'd felt about those things, about _her_, all along (and at the moment she could only conclude that it was), then she really wasn't sure how they could continue. On the rare occasions when she'd interacted with a much younger Doctor, so far, River had accepted his criticism on these fronts based on the fact that he barely knew her, so of course he would be suspicious. But this..._this_ was disrespectful and showed a real lack of understanding of the things that mattered to her – of her, really.

River's pace slowed further as she tried to process this information. She knew that this Doctor had by now had multiple conversations with her about her guns. Right now she was thinking of one in particular. They had been visiting a beach and he'd joked about her need to bring a gun along with her bikini. In a moment of real vulnerability, she had then explained to him that having them and using them was a way for her to own her past, to own what she had been raised as, what she had been raised for, and to use it as a strength. Then, he'd been so, so receptive, hugging her tightly and promising that he understood, that he was so very proud of who she was, of who she'd become. _That _Doctor hadn't done Elva IX yet, so she knew that this one had definitely been to that beach with her. In the face of this morning's betrayal, she was forced to accept that he had been lying – and she knew he lied – but oh, that was just too much – to have shown him so much of herself only to be lied to. River's breath caught in her throat, and she froze where she stood in the crowd, teetering as though on a precipice. She was still angry, certainly, but now that she was going over the situation, she realized that he had really hurt her, clearly intentionally, and that she had to face this new reality.

She couldn't go back, couldn't bear the thought of looking into the eyes of the man she had trusted to see contempt staring back at her. She wasn't sure she would ever be able to erase the image of that contempt from her mind, not even if he masked it with his lies again. But how could she leave? She didn't have her vortex manipulator, and she definitely couldn't live out all her days on Choreolus. Thinking it through a bit, she'd definitely met up with Doctors older than this one, so this couldn't be the last time _he_ would see _her_, at least…and she had yet to encounter him for _his_ first time…which led to the conclusion that _she_ would see _him _again. But how could she go back to him? At the moment it was unimaginable. Maybe once, a long time ago, she would have lacked the self-respect, the self-value to refuse to tolerate this sort of behavior, this sort of betrayal. She had had more than a few disastrous and semi-abusive relationships as Mels, no surprise there – but she was River Song now, and although he was at least partly responsible for the amount of self-respect she had developed, even he did not have the right to treat her this way, to lie to her about what he thought of her, of the bits of her soul that she had shown him.

So for the moment, she stood frozen in the crowd, letting the mass of people jostle her and push past her, wracking her brain to come up with a functional solution.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Comme toujours, thanks to grumpyjenn and Snowy Ashes. Here you go, Chapter 2/4.

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><p><span>That morning on the TARDIS:<span>

The Doctor looked up as River entered the console room. Oh! She was strapping on a gun, good, good, then he should go for the gun insults then, c'mon, he'd practiced – he knew he could do this – _be convincing, no – don't smile – grimace, think…think Rory the Roman when he's upset with you…ok no well don't think about that too much…oh quick you're going to miss your chance!_ After this brief mental coaching, he finally managed to start, firing off something offensive about her not being able to part with her guns. _Yes, just like you practiced, now, something about how they mean more to her than you, good, ooh, look at her eyes starting to smoulder! You're doing so well_. He had of course meant to stop after that, but then he was just so proud of himself that he was _acting _so well, he just sort of kept going, and before he knew it, he'd approached her and put his hand on her blaster as though to take it away from her. The next thing he knew, his hand was stinging and her blonde head was bobbing through the crowd outside, headed briskly away from him.

Oh. Oh dear. Oh no no no, not good. This wasn't how it was supposed to go at all – she was supposed to just get miffed with him and storm off _into_ the TARDIS! Now how would he get her to see the room? He couldn't have done a bad job making her mad – he'd spent all morning trying to come up with something he could say to make her a bit angry with him – and he'd _practiced_, so he was sure he'd done just fine with that part….Should he not have touched her blaster? Was that it? She usually _liked_ when he got all possessive-y. But, but she'd _slapped his hand_. He shook it at his side for emphasis and to get the sting to go away – and then she'd walked off, without him, into a busy market! Not only that, but she'd stalked off as though she didn't want to even be near the TARDIS or anything related to him! That indicated a _far_ more extreme reaction than he'd been going for - what had he done wrong? He'd wanted her to be upset so that she would want to go find a place to cool off for a bit, yeah, but, he hadn't wanted to completely chase her away!

Wait….What exactly had he said to her? He tried to replay it in his mind – he'd gotten so into the moment he hadn't been paying much attention at all to what he was saying – had he really said "archaeological drivel?" That might have been a bit much. But mostly he'd just insulted the way she always relied on guns for everything, and though he knew that wasn't quite true, he figured could get away with seeming like he thought it since she did always have one on her. Always have one on her...

Oh.

His hearts sank. In his mind's eye, he was suddenly back on the beach of the capital city of Alva with her, just barely a month ago, holding her in his arms as she explained to him that she was so attached to having a gun around and to using it to her advantage in a positive way because it allowed her to take ownership of who she _had _been, and to accept that as still being a part of who she was. He had questioned her choice to take a small pistol with them to the beach, of all places, and she had turned away from him so slowly and sadly, the mumbled words of explanation coming haltingly and timidly as he went over to her and sat them down together on the sand. It was still a bit surprising and new to him, how soft she was at times - she was often so forceful in her self-restraint, even with him, that when she let it go, she was surprisingly gentle and nervous.

Smacking himself in the head, but pulling his hand back sharply as the stinging from her slap started up again, he saw how picking on her about her gun had been a disastrous move. Very, very not good. How could he be so _stupid_ – annoy her, yes, but instead he realized he'd managed to _completely betray her trust_. Oh this was turning out just fabulously, Doctor, excellent work!

He paced around the console, trying to think of a way to salvage this situation. Well, to bloody hell with surprising her with the room, forget the surprise, right now he just needed find her and try to explain, or really, just start with the apologizing, that should help, maybe? And then he could try to explain, if she would let him. Really he just hoped he could get her to listen to him, or even look at him again. She would have to come back though, wouldn't she? He couldn't seem to remember if she had her vortex manipulator with her this trip…if she did, well….right, so, maybe waiting wasn't such a good plan. He should go find her. Now.

Stepping out of the TARDIS into the crowd, he realized that he didn't have much of a chance of finding her by sight at this level – even with her hair, she would just be shorter than a good third of the crowd. To make up for this, he stuck to the periphery of any given route, hopping up onto crates, boxes, stalls, whatever he could find to get a better vantage point. Once elevated, he scanned desperately for a head of wonderfully distinctive curls, getting no small number of strange looks in the process. Luckily, he didn't have to go far. Interestingly enough, it wasn't the hair that first made him look towards her – he was simply noticing the disrupted traffic patterns of the market-goers (one didn't get to 1100 without understanding a bit of crowd dynamics). He traced the disruption back to its source, and that's when he saw her – standing still amidst the crowd like a rock jutting out of a waterfall. Jumping off his crate, he rushed through the crowd towards her, finally elbowing his way through to be right in front of her.

As the Doctor appeared in front of River, she snapped out of her reverie. She looked directly at him. She assumed a strong, firm stance that radiated defiance, pride, and fury, but she let her eyes show what this was doing to her, to learn he couldn't be trusted, couldn't be believed, even with her. She wanted him to know, and maybe somewhere in that eleventh body of his he would feel it too, what it was to have something that meant the world to you wrenched away, so she held his gaze for a moment, and then, having come to a decision the instant she saw him, she began to move. Shifting her gaze to be pointedly just-past-his-shoulders, she took a step towards him, trailing her hand down deliberately to grip the handle of her blaster. Had she been looking at him, she would have seen him twitch as though in pain at the reminder of what he had said, how he had unintentionally spat in the face of one of her greatest confessions, but as it was she was not looking, and so she did not see it. With her face set in steely determination and her hand resting on the blaster at her hip, she continued right past him, heading straight for the TARDIS and not giving him a second glance.

Making sure to be extra-conscious of River's emotional state after his earlier slip-up of epic proportions, the Doctor realized that given the amount of simultaneous fury and sorrow he picked up from her behavior and her eyes, this would probably not be the best moment to start babbling to her about why he'd done it, and at this point he wasn't sure he could do much better than babble about it. In retrospect, the whole thing was starting to seem like a ridiculous plan – he so, so, _so_ wished he'd just _told_ her, instead of thinking it would be better to get her to discover it in exactly the kind of moment she would want it…Hanging his head, he followed behind her, scuffing his shoes against the dirt in frustration every few steps, and trying not to spend too much time looking at her back as it pressed on ahead of him. At least she was headed for the TARDIS. He knew he'd been stupid, but maybe Sexy could give him a hand fixing things – if it could be done, she would want to see it done as much as he would.

River kept it together until she reached the TARDIS, but as she strode through the doors and up to the console, her eyes clouded with tears. Her memories of her time with him – with _any_ him and _every _him – were written all over the walls and the floor, singing out to her with every vibration and hum of the crazy blue box where he'd taught her the meaning of home. And right now, all she wanted to do was get away from it, away from it all. She kept from falling apart completely by believing, somewhere deep inside, that maybe someday she could come back, but it would take time, and it wasn't time she could spend on board. Still, hot angry tears trailed down her cheeks in a steady flow as she clenched her jaw and ignored his footsteps as he came in after her. By the time he started speaking, she was furiously and blindly slamming gears up and down, trying to get the TARDIS to go back to Stormcage, but she wasn't cooperating, and all River needed right now was to be any more worked up. The sound of his voice was too much. River turned on him.

The Doctor had finally gotten up the nerve to utter her name, and as he heard the way he said it, all breathless and begging and strained, it struck him how utterly desperate he was. After only looking at her back up until this point, the intensity of River's gaze as she spun around to face him nearly seared the Doctor's senses. Her resolve to not retaliate had clearly snapped by now, and he had to admit it was a frightening sight. Her hair whipped around her face as she continued slamming the TARDIS controls around wildly for emphasis, and her eyes were red and full of tears, but she wasn't sobbing…no, she was on fire. Taking a deep breath, the Doctor readied himself, as much as he could, for what would come next. He wrapped his hand around the nearest railing in an iron grip to keep himself upright, as though _she_ was in fact, the Oncoming Storm.

"How. Could. YOU?"

"How, YOU USE THAT BRILLIANT MOUTH OF YOURS AND TELL ME HOW, how you could sit with me and lie to me bold-facedly about your opinion of me, you bastard."

"Oh, oh no, oh look at your surprised little face. You thought I would want to shout at you, to tell you you're wrong, archaeology is brilliant, and so are guns? I am not a child, _Doctor_, I can tolerate opinions different than my own. What I cannot tolerate is the idea that you would LIE to me about this. I DO NOT CARE WHAT YOU THINK, but I DO care about you, and about us. And yes, I lie, you lie, we lie, BECAUSE WE MUST. Don't we already have to lie about enough?"

At this point, the Doctor had turned his face away from her gaze and was grimacing into his shoulder, attempting to get out, amidst the windstorm of her fury, "No, River. No, I. River, I. Just."

"Oh and don't you 'No, River,' me. If you care at all about these tears running down my face, and if you want to see me again before your 1300th Birthday, you had damn well better answer me. HOW COULD YOU?" Turning her full attention back to the still very intractable TARDIS, she continued, "And you, YOU had damn well bring me back to my cell, THIS MINUTE."

He really couldn't have told you how it happened, exactly. He had closed his eyes briefly as he pressed his cheek against his shoulder, unable to bear the sight any longer, and when he'd looked back up…she was…

Well, she was out cold on the floor of the TARDIS.

The TARDIS scanner seemed to have…knocked her out.

Recovering from his confusion, he chastised his constant companion, "Sexy! Is that any sort of a thing to do to River? She's your favorite! You let her drive! You better not have hurt her!"

Checking River's pulse, he reassured himself that she was fine. That would definitely give her a bit of a bump though…he really hoped she would remember what had happened and (rightfully) blame the TARDIS….

Looking down at River's still-red, tear-stained face, he remembered just how bad the situation was, and sent a thought of regretful thanks to the TARDIS – at least now he might have a chance to explain, if he played his cards right.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Beta-ing by the usual suspects (thanks!). Funny story, I almost decided to scrap this fic early-on, so really glad it's working out. Thank you all for the lovely reviews, hope you continue to enjoy! :) ~Bev

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><p>River awoke with a pounding headache in a room she'd never seen before. Wait, what in…what had happened? She remembered yelling at the Doctor, and then at the TARDIS, and then the scanner had swung 'round and…She felt the sore spot at the top of her head and harrumphed. Well, that had been rude.<br>But how had she gotten in here, and where _was_ here, exactly? Right well, presumably the Doctor had put her here. She looked around, taking in her surroundings. It was a rather large room, and the bed was surprisingly reminiscent of her bed in Stormcage, if much softer and more comfortable.

Ah! There was something.

On top of the small bedside table to her left was her blaster, affixed to an envelope with a bright red bow. Reaching over, she picked it up gently, taking a moment to feel its comforting weight in her palm before putting it aside to deal with the envelope. Reading her name written across it in his sprawling but excellent handwriting, she scowled. Flipping it over to open it, she _nearly_smiled at what was written on the flap – "Please read me?" – but she caught herself as she was about to smile and grimaced instead. She opened the envelope and removed the handwritten letter contained within, raising her eyebrows a bit at its length.

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><p><em>Dear River,<em>

_Please, please read this humble letter in its completion, I think you will find that it will make quite a difference, though I will of course understand if you still wish to leave. Please don't leave - now that I'm used to you being around everything is so much more boring without you, like someone turned on the blue boringers of life or something. River, it's awful. So, right, read this and don't leave? That would be nice, and not awful, decidedly not awful, very good really. Ah, well, anyway, on to the story I suppose._

_No, actually, hold on, before anything else, please, please believe me that I ABSOLUTELY understand why you need to carry a gun, and I even almost like them because of what they mean to you. And of course when someone as brilliant as you does it, even archaeology can be interesting. Especially if there are field trips! Field trips are cool! I did not mean to hurt you or make you believe that I have ever lied to you about my feelings about you or any of your habits. What I said on that beach and every other time you have opened yourself up to me is completely and utterly true – I am proud of you and I love you and I treasure you, but I could not feel the way I do about you without having demons and regrets of my own, and what I said today will now number high among those regrets. Why, then, you might ask, or well, actually I imagine at this point you'd rather snarl it, though I mean snarl in the most flattering way possible, not that I'm entirely sure there is a flattering version of snarl, but if there is, that's the one I mean! Right so, "Why," you snarl in a flattering way, "did you say those things?" Now that I think of it you will probably also snarl, "Where the bloody hell am I?" The answers to those questions, I think you will find, are surprisingly related. If you wish to have me answer the first question first, keep reading, and if you'd rather hear the answer to the second question, skip down four paragraphs. It'll be like choose your own adventure, I bet you loved those when you were in school, unless you hated them. If you hated them pretend I never brought them up, please? I don't imagine I need any help getting on your bad side right about now, not that you have a bad side! All your sides are amazing! But you know what I mean, I hope._

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><p>Pausing, River looked up from the letter and sighed, shaking her head gently in exasperation. She was still upset with him for whatever ridiculousness had caused him to say what he said this morning, but she could not deny being extremely relieved to read that he had been lying today, rather than that day at the beach. Smiling almost against her will, she also had to admit that his nervous rambling was just as endearing in letter form as in person. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed and sitting up, she paused a moment to let her head stop spinning - <em>really<em>, Old Girl, had that been entirely necessary? - and went back to reading.

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><p><em>Right so, why did I say those things to you this morning. Well, you see, it's just that I wanted you to be angry with me. Oh it does sound ridiculous when I write it that way. Or any way, I suppose. It's just, you see, I thought if I upset you a bit you'd want to find somewhere to get away from me and calm down and would wander off into the TARDIS looking for a spare room or the gym or the kitchen or well anything really. And then the TARDIS and I would've made sure you found this room and then you would've been so happy and appreciative and maybe would've done that thing where your nose crinkles, and well, I was really hoping to get a nose crinkle out of this. I think, if you're still reading this, you've probably started shaking your head at my inability to tell a story, so maybe I'll start from the beginning.<em>

_About a week ago, and forgive me in advance for being vague here, but, well, Spoilers. Anyway about a week ago I ran into an older version of you on an archaeological dig. We got into a bit of a spat and you marched off into the TARDIS, clearly with a particular destination in mind, and you weren't headed towards our room. I was curious, so I followed, but at a distance so that you wouldn't know I was following. Though, now that I have to write it down, it seems that you probably knew, in which case, thanks in advance for not shooting me. As I rounded the last corner behind you, you pulled closed a big wooden door I'd never seen on the TARDIS before. That was really strange, because although she sometimes re-does herself when I regenerate, I generally have to at least contribute to new rooms being made on the TARDIS. Not to mention I'd had a few fights with you, this you, younger you, not the older you, you know what I mean...Or who I mean...Or maybe when I mean? Anyway, we'd fought and you'd always complained about not having anywhere to go to get away from me properly without leaving our current timeline, so I was surprised to see that later you obviously had...uh, have? or will have had...no, that's not right...Well, that such a place obviously existed onboard the TARDIS, but that the TARDIS didn't show it to current you, or even, until that point, current me. I'll avoid telling you anything else about our interactions on that occasion, but needless to say, I learned that the door was wooden (right down to the lock) so that I couldn't sonic it open, and as soon as you, that you, left, the TARDIS took away the room._

_Now, as it turns out, and as I do hope you know, I'm not really nearly as dense on most occasions as the end of this story makes me seem. On top of that, I've lived with the timey-wimeyness and moods of the Old Girl for no short amount of time, so it dawned on me fairly immediately after this encounter that older you had the room, but the TARDIS wouldn't just give you the room because she of course knew (though you couldn't tell me yourself of course because of Spoilers, or actually, now that I'm writing this note, you couldn't tell me because I've now told you that you didn't tell me. Oh well, I've written in pen now and I'm not sure we even have white-out on the TARDIS, so there it is)...that I had in fact created the room myself and given it to you at some point, which of course meant that I got to make the room and give it to you. This is when I started anticipating the nose-crinkling._

_Since there's no time like the present - actually that's a terrible expression, forget I used that expression, it's rubbish to write that in a time machine, really. Since I wanted to see the look on your face when you found the room for the first time as soon as possible, I went to work on it right away. I was nearly done when I picked you up yesterday and brought you to the shoe store, and while you were out I finished up and decided that the best way to get you to be really happy about finding it would be to make you a little mad so that you would appreciate how it filled an obvious need in your life. I was so excited that I couldn't sleep long at all, even for me, so I got up extra early and rehearsed possible things to say to you for several hours - I was pretty nervous - it's not every day you try to pick a fight with River Song, I mean, I'd much rather be flirting with you or doing...other things, so I was afraid I would do it wrong and just shout "River, River, look what I made for you!" as soon as you woke up. That, I hope, in as much as an explanation can be offered, explains why I was so bloody earnest and clueless when I said those things to you about your guns...I was just trying so hard! Well, I'm afraid you know quite well how it goes after that._

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><p>River couldn't help it. She <em>really <em>hoped the walls of this room were thick - and given the room's apparent purpose, it seemed like they should be - because she was trying not to, really, but she was just laughing _hysterically_. For the second time today, tears were streaming down her cheeks, but now they were accompanied by the sound of her roaring laughter. Not only was she enormously relieved to understand why he'd done such a stupid thing, but it was just so pricelessly _him _and so, very, very, very mis-directedly sweet. _Oh my lovable, ridiculous Time Lord, you had better thank every star in several galaxies that the TARDIS had the good sense to knock me out or I'd have ripped you to shreds! And all because you were trying to _help. _Oh, so classic. So nearly disastrously classic. _She rode out the waves of her laughter and inhaled deeply, catching her breath. She wanted to read the rest of the letter, but judging by how honestly concerned about her reaction he seemed in the letter so far, she thought it might be better to save reading the rest until later and go find her poor, worried Time Lord now. Trying to wipe the ridiculous grin off her face, she folded the letter carefully and pushed it into today's page in her diary. Returning the diary to her pocket, she got up and went to the door, prepared to search the TARDIS for him, or at least prepared to get the TARDIS to show her where he was.

As it turned out, that was definitely not going to be necessary.


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Beta-ing (and lots of squee-ing) by grumpyjenn and Snowy Ashes. Last chapter, folks, enjoy!

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><p>Opening the door with a fair amount of force, River nearly hit the Doctor's legs where he'd been sitting against the wall since he put her in bed and deposited the note, alternately twiddling his fingers, tapping his feet, and running his hands through his floppy hair. He jerked away from her as though expecting her to have been swinging the door at him intentionally, and the smile vanished from her face.<p>

Leaning down slightly, she gently offered him her hand. When he realized that he was not in immediate danger, he slowly cracked one eye open. Spotting her hand extended out to him, he grinned enormously wide in his relief and snatched it quickly with his own. Smiling back at him softly, River said, "Come here, you," and gave his hand a quick pull. As he jumped up and took her into an extremely tight hug, she added, "Oh, it's alright."

Still hugging her, he stammered into her hair, "Oh but River, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to. I just, River, oh don't leave, please don't leave. I'm sorry, I should've just told you…"

As he continued to ramble, River stroked his back gently, repeating, "Hush my love, hush."

Finally, she pushed him away a bit so that he would look at her, and said, "I'm not going anywhere, alright? You get that through your floppy-haired head, now, hmmm? Yes, you did make a bit of a mess of this, but my quick temper didn't help any either."

He nodded hesitantly.

"Plus, we're masters of all's-well-that-ends-well, you and I, aren't we?" she finished conspiratorially.

Up until this point, the Doctor had been fairly worried-looking, but not actually crying, so when tears welled up in his eyes at this statement, River was quite surprised. Of course she couldn't understand just how much he felt this statement did not, in fact, apply to the two of them. Oh, so very, very far from it. Assuming he was just generally upset about the situation, River pulled him back into her embrace, reaching a hand up to run through his hair while he cried softly against her shoulder.

The Doctor was relieved that River didn't pry about why he was crying. After giving himself a few moments to cry into her shoulder about her own ending, the guilt he felt about being comforted by her over it was too much, and he stopped himself short. Now he was the one to pull away and straighten up, forcing himself to focus on the fact that she was currently right here in front of him and had just forgiven him. He smiled softly.

Wiping the last tear off his cheek, she smiled back and asked, "Are we okay now, love?"

He nodded vigorously, "Oh River, we're so much more than okay."

Wriggling out of his arms, she walked back into the room, calling back to him brightly, "Well in that case, why don't you show me what all of this fuss was about?"

He didn't _skip _in after her, exactly, but he did sort of hop, and yes alright maybe if you squinted a bit while it happened you might have thought it was a skip.

Coming up next to her where she stood inside the room, he slipped his left arm around her waist and gestured broadly with his right.

"Well, as you can see, it's a spacious room, and the walls are painted this lovely shade of pale green because...well mostly because I was trying to think of a color other than TARDIS blue that you would like and you don't really seem like much of a pink kind of a girl..." he glanced down appreciatively at her curves, "...err, woman."

Moving closer to the wall to examine the color, River nodded her encouragement.

"Right, good then, so the room has three sections. Let's start with the bed-end first." He walked over to the bed and sat on it, bouncing once for emphasis. "This bed is, I will have you know, _precisely _the same height and dimensions as your bed in Stormcage, only with a much cushier mattress and comfier - really River, they're so _soft_ - sheets and things. I thought you'd feel more comfortable in it that way, if it was familiar to you, but not all gray and dreary."

By now River had joined him by the bed, and her eyes teared up slightly as she fingered the fabric of the comforter and nodded, again, her appreciation. He beamed, and took her hand from the fabric, swinging it gently back and forth as he stood and dragged her over to a nook located about halfway across the room's back wall.

"This is the nook! I knew from the beginning that I wanted there to be a nook. Everyone loves nooks. Especially smart people, smart people just _love_ nooks. Not to mention it's just a fabulous word - nook!"

River chuckled and patted him fondly on the arm, "Oh yes, love a good nook, me."

"Exactly! And here in the nook we have this comfy chair. Go on, River, try it out."

River obediently sat in the chair, and was, admittedly, pleased with how comfortable it was - really a perfect reading chair.

"And in arm's reach of the lovely comfy chair - notice, I didn't use my arms as a scale for that, since they're so extra-dangly - I measured to make sure it was the length of _your_ arms. In arm's reach of the chair is a bookshelf full of books. Well yes alright of course it's full of books, it's a bookshelf - but not just any books, archaeology books! Some of them are even all dusty and old the way you like, and I made sure to pick ones that have that really good book smell because sometimes I see you reading and when you think I'm not looking you inhale really deep and smile and I thought I'd like for you to be able to do that when you're in here, having your River alone-time."

As they paused a moment to simply grin at each other, it was worth noting how impressively different their expressions were from the scowls and grimaces each had worn mere hours ago.

"Also in the nook is this electric tea kettle and mug and some tea, because every reading nook should have tea." Both River and the Doctor nodded solemnly.

"Ok, River, now, don't get too excited, but personally I think this is the best part." He reached out his hand, took hold of hers, pulled her unceremoniously out of the chair, and dragged her to the other side of the room.

"This is the really important part of the room for when you're angry at me, I expect." He stepped gingerly around the equipment he was about to describe, and she smiled at how different they were in some ways, while being so similar in others.

"Here's this punching bag, for you to, well, I expect you'll punch it, and I suppose you could kick it too. And over _here_," he gestured excitedly again, "over here is this dummy for you to spar with - I even gave him a little bow tie to make it easier for you to imagine him being me...Anyway, moving on. Could you close your eyes please? I only have one thing left, but I bet you'll really like it!"

River obediently closed her eyes, and felt herself being turned around to face the front wall, to the left of the door if you were facing it from the inside. He backed her up several paces, and stretched her right arm out in front of her, gingerly opening her palm and dragging his fingers across it in a gentle caress that made her sigh. As her hand closed around what he lowered into her palm, the sigh turned into an unabashed squeal of glee and her eyes flew open. She looked down at the modified blaster, then up at the Doctor, only to find him grinning nearly as impossibly widely as she was. And of course, then it happened, she couldn't have stopped it if she wanted to - her nose crinkled as she smiled at him. He came in closer and poked her nose, and they both started laughing like children on Christmas morning who'd just gotten every present they wished for.

When they recovered sufficiently from their mutual giddiness, the Doctor pointed at the target hung on the far wall and explained, "It's modified so it only shoots mild energy pulses, and I've checked and it seems like the TARDIS doesn't have any objections to you shooting her on board...though I'd probably keep it to in here, just to be safe. She's still a bit touchy about that time you actually shot her, you know. In any case, the paint I used on that bulls-eye should light up and stay that way for about a minute wherever it gets hit by the energy pulse, so you can practice your aim." Looking back at River, he noticed that she wasn't looking where he was pointing anymore - instead she was staring down at the blaster he'd just given her, where she had it cradled in her arms.

"Hey River, you do like it don't you? Are the energy pulses not enough, do you think?"

She shook her head but didn't look up. He caught a glimpse of something shiny trailing down her cheek.

"Oh hey," he said softly as he put a finger under her chin and, not meeting any resistance, turned her head up so that he could look at her, "shh, it's ok. I _told _you I didn't mean what I said about your guns. They're a part of you, I know that now, and I love you." She brought the blaster up against her chest and leaned into him as he pulled her into his embrace. "Nod if I should stop rambling." A watery chuckle and a soft nod. He harumphed, earning a second sob/chuckle, and wrapped his arms around her firmly, settling for reassuring her with his actions instead of his words that, indeed, she was safe and could once again trust in his love for her. Always and completely. Being without that feeling for several hours and then seeing the thoughtfulness he'd put into modifying this blaster for her had really driven home how important it was for her that he treasured her rather than simply tolerating her. And so, secure in his arms and his love once again, she cried silently with relief.

Eventually the Doctor could tell that she had stopped crying, but she made no move to pull away from his chest. After leaving her there for a few extra minutes, he poked her gently in the back and asked, "Um, River, are you planning on staying there all day?"

The muffled reply of "Mmmayyyyyybe" caused them both to snort with laughter. She pulled away from him slightly and smiled mischievously up at him, still holding the blaster tightly.

Waving one arm excitedly at the target and backing up a bit, he asked, "Well, don't you want to try it out?"

"Alright, sweetie, if you insist. But are you sure you won't be scared?" she asked with a wink, though she was partly serious. He responded with an energetic nod.

Immediately assessing that this target would be far, far too easy (such close range!) in full light from head-on, River closed her eyes and turned herself around to face the back wall before raising the blaster with her left hand (_not_ her dominant hand) and firing, still with her eyes closed. Though its fire was decidedly non-dangerous (she estimated it might tingle a bit, but nothing more), the blaster made a satisfying sound as it fired the energy-pulse. Turning around, River frowned. The glowing point left by the pulse on the target was ever so slightly off-center. Single-focused, she walked up to the target and examined the magnitude of her error. She approximated it to be about two centimeters. In some species, that was the difference between a very minor wound and a seriously debilitating injury that could actually buy them some time. _I'm really out of practice_, she thought, only to hear her thoughts spoken aloud.

"Seems like you're out of practice a bit," the Doctor drawled from where he leaned against the door frame.

"Oh! Hey, I'd watch what you say, Doctor dearest, as I recall you're treading on thin ice," River replied, placing her hands on her hips as she turned to face him, but both their eyes were glinting with took a slow step towards him, pulling up to her full height, though it was somewhat in vain as she was still shorter than him.

He bolted out the door and down the corridor.

"Hey! Get back here!" she shouted as she followed in hot pursuit.

By the time she caught him, they were both breathless with laughter. She had caught up to him only a few feet from their bedroom, and they subsequently stumbled into their room, breathless for very different reasons. An hour or so later, after practicing something else entirely than what River had been concerned about, they lay dozing lightly together, limbs entangled. Both had found immense relief in the pleasure of being together after such a trying day. For him it was the pleasure of being wholly forgiven, and for her, of being wholly accepted.

Stirring slightly, River suddenly remembered something and rolled over to face the Doctor, rubbing his shoulder to rouse him. At first a soft groan was the only response she got, but after she shoved him gently, he managed "Mmmm?"

"Sweetie, I just realized, we never bought that tea."

Still resisting being properly awakened, the Doctor muttered, "What?"

"The tea that we came to this planet for in the first place, remember?"

Opening his eyes lazily, he answered, "Oh, right. Tea. Well," he tapped her on the nose, "you know, we are on a time machine, and she's even parked properly. We can stay as long as we like." Sliding his arm around her waist and pulling her closer, he nuzzled her shoulder, adding "Right now I'm thinking that could be a long time." He went for the kiss, but by the time his lips reached where hers had just been, she was out of bed and pulling on her clothes. Flopping his head back against the pillow he sighed in resignation.

"Oh fine, but I'm collecting that kiss later!"

"Mmm," River agreed absentmindedly while rummaging around next to the bed.

"What is it?" the Doctor, now out of bed, asked as he pulled on his trousers.

"Where'd I put my blaster?"

"I think you left it in your room, didn't you?"

"Oh, oh that's right I did, didn't I, I left it in _my_ room. Well then, I'll go collect _my_ blaster from _my_ room," she replied, obviously delighted at this revelation.

By the time River returned, the Doctor was fully dressed and already in the console room, waiting. As she walked out, strapping the gun into its holster at her hip, he was reminded vividly of the exact same image from earlier in the day. Making an infinitely wiser choice this time, he settled for "You look beautiful." Raising an eyebrow at him from beneath hair which had, at this point, been tussled by a minor street brawl, a fit of rage, an intrepid hallway chase, lovemaking, and sleep, River gave the bemused answer, "While I thank you, I think you may be trying a bit _too_ hard, love."

He started stammering again, "No, I meant it! You look amazing that way." He continued, "all River-y and ummmmmMMMmmmmmm," the last syllable extending into a surprised and then satisfied moan as she cut off his stammering with his promised kiss.

Breaking the kiss, she stated, "Right then, let's go get that tea we came here for."

Taking his hand in hers so as not to lose him in the crowd when he inevitably got distracted by several hundred items in the giant marketplace, River strode out into the street for the second time that day. This time, it was just the way she always liked it - a gun at one hip, and the Doctor at the other.


End file.
